Color outside the lines

When I was 3 years old, my brother and sister decided to give me my first swimming lesson while camping at Sebago Lake in Maine. I was being a sweet, well behaved and charming little girl...just ‘lightly’ pushing my brother and sister off of the wharf into the water. After a few unplanned ‘falls’ into the water...they conspired against me...and threw me in the water! I had no idea that I was a born swimmer...I came up under the wharf...and very quietly floated under there...allowing mass hysteria to set in with a smirk on my face. When I finally surfaced from the depths...I am pretty sure I got the beating of a lifetime for the scare. BUT, it was well worth it! Of course, my brother and sister got in major trouble for ‘picking on the baby!’

Back in those days, we had one of those trailers built onto the back of a pick up truck...where us kids were ‘allowed’ to stay in the back during the drive and lay on the bunk over the cab of the truck,looking out the window.(It truly is remarkable that we survived those days...no seat belts, no helmets, no alcohol wipes!). As we crossed the US- Canada border...the border guard insisted on searching the trailer. The border guards basically tore everything apart...bunks, pots and pans, suit cases...but got quite a surprise when they ‘inspected’ the tea pot. My brother and sister tell me I had some ‘bowel issues’ back then. I guess I sometimes waited a week or more before ‘going’. Well,unfortunately for the border guards the ‘week of waiting’ was up and I had taken a great big dump in the tea pot! I not only filled it...I had replaced the top on the pot when I was done to let it ‘steep’ to perfection!

I digress. My sister Lori and I went to swimming lessons a couple times a week for many years. I really did not need lessons of any sort...it was more of a badge gathering affair. We were separated from the main group often and one day the instructor took our picture holding a badge. Now, don’t ask me why...but I thought this meant that I was ‘special’...in a short bus kind of way. Since nobody really explained why we were separated from the main group, I thought it was because we were inadequate...or too slow...failures...when in fact...we were super-duper advanced for our ages. Our pictures were taken for being extraordinary swimmers. Thank goodness this contorted idea of mine did not alter my love for swimming. I LOVE swimming…anywhere…anytime. My mother and I actually swam across Bellisle Bay years ago…I would swim the ocean if I knew for sure something wouldn’t bite my bum or sting me!

I was also a Loch Lomond majorette...baton twirler girl. I LOVED baton twirling! Especially the high rubber boots with the pom-poms on them, the sparkly body suit and that funky ‘majorette’ hat to match! Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better...they asked me to carry the banner for the Santa Clause parade! I near shit my pants! Put me right in the front where I belong people...good choice...excuse me...could you step back while I step right in front of you...where I belong...in front of you! I was the baton twirler girl of the universe! Can you imagine my surprise when weeks later I bombed in a competition? I was shocked...and horrible at baton twirling...I ended up at rock bottom last! It was devastating...I quit altogether in fact. Many years later...it hit me like a ton of bricks...out of nowhere...I had to pull over the car...I realized that I was asked to hold the banner in the Santa parade because I was a danger to myself and others with a baton in my hands! OMG! How odd is it that I thought I was a super star when I wasn’t...and thought I wasn’t a super star when I was?

Thank God I did not have a clue back then...as this could have changed the entire course of my life! For whatever reason...maybe a child-like abandon and sense of adventure...I continued to sign on and enlist myself for every opportunity possible. I played trombone and bass guitar in a jazz band for many years, tried out for(and NEVER made)a single sports team year after year (damn you Mr. Porter!.Every year I went back...tried again...never made the list. I figured there was something wrong with the coach...never ever once considered that I was the shits at sports! I did manage to become the high school curling skip though(it may have been lack of turn out at the try outs but I refuse to believe that!)Drama, student council, sang crazy songs each morning for the high school announcements (everybody thought I was CRAZY!), I got hammered at Jim Morrison’s grave in Paris...you name it...I tried it...at least once.

Years ago, I got on some exhibition rides with my step daughter. We both laughed like fools! For those few crazy minutes during each ride...for a brief moment in time...I jumped right back to 1982...when I was on the rides with my best friend Barbara...I felt like I was 14 all over again! A couple years ago, Barbara and I reunited after 18 years and we participated in the Bell City Chase in Ottawa to commemorate it. It’s like the Amazing Race and we came in 120 out of 300...it was exhilarating and we felt like kids again! We didn’t care about winning...we simply signed on to have a fun day! Last year, I signed on to do TreeGo (an obstacle course made of ropes and logs high up the trees). I was scared shitless...but at the same time I felt like a kid again! I get the same thrill when I go a million miles an hour down a ski hill every winter...and this year I discovered the ‘high’ of golf! I am not very good at it...I am simply having a blast...and that is all that matters!

My message here is simple...DON’T DRINK TEA AT MY HOUSE!!! No seriously...embrace your child-like abandon and do something absolutely crazy and fun...something you have always wanted to do. Sign on for an adventure...stop being so serious all the time...and most importantly do not fear failure...embrace adventure! When you cross something off of your list...put something new right back on it. Step outside ‘your box’ and color outside the lines! It is absolutely exhilarating! Now I have to go and find a roller derby rink, belly dancing class, and a Burlesque dancing troop!

Man does not cease to play because he grows old, he grows old because he ceases to play.-- Drew Lachey

Lynn
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